


Stop having loud arguments outside my door.

by isissa



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, Arguments, Gen, Vague, minor gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 11:11:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6954085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isissa/pseuds/isissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know you’re a real – r-real piece of shit sometimes, Rick!” <br/>Morty is angry and takes it out on Rick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop having loud arguments outside my door.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Fic Prompts](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/200083) by http://witterprompts.tumblr.com. 



> shitboi there is some harsh ass language down here. this fic is 99% argument! if youre cool with that (and i mean if you watch rick and morty you probably are) enjoy!

 

                “Oh, I’m the stupid one am I Beth?”

                “Yes, Jerry, you _are._ ”

                “I’m not the person getting over emotional because of a tv remote!”

                “Jerry, you spent the last fifteen minutes mashing buttons on the remote and crying because you _put the batteries in backwards!_ ”

                Morty rolled over in bed, staring at the wall. His parents were screaming at each other just outside. Every now and then they’d quieten down, then go right back to shouting again.

                It was dark in Morty’s room, lit only by streetlights outside, but he felt wide awake. His eyes were wide open. His muscles were slightly tense. He jumped slightly when he heard Jerry stomp outside his door, his parents still throwing insults back and forth.

                Finally, he grit his teeth and pushed off his bed sheets, scrambling out of bed and tripping over his shoes as he stood up. Jerry had just finished screaming something about how Beth should have gone back to marry that helicopter pilot when Morty burst through the door, silencing the pair of them just down the hall for a few seconds. Morty refused to urge to glance at them and stomped down the stairs, still in half of his pyjama set, hair ruffled from tossing and turning.

                He stomped down the stairs, through the loungeroom, and eventually into the garage, where his Grandpa was sitting at the desk on the far side, tinkering with what looked like a fist sized blue crystal. He had a screw driver in one hand and held the crystal with the other. Even as Morty walked in, not caring to be quiet, slammed the door and sat down, leaning against the door, Rick didn’t turn.

                Morty sat there for a while, then he huffed, threw his arms together in front of him and huffed again. Finally, Rick groaned audibly and dropped what he was toying with on the desk, spinning on his broken desk chair to face Morty.

                “What?” He asked, spitting out the word.

                “What do you care, Rick?” The boy spat back, despite himself. For a moment after, he looked like he might have regretted it, but then the thought passed and he looked at the far wall.

                “Oh, I get it.” Rick spun on his chair to face the desk again. The chair creaked with his movement and cracked dangerously. “You’re on your period.”

                Morty groaned. “I’m not on my period, Rick! H-h-how – I don’t get periods!”

                Rick already had the crystal in his hands again and didn’t even turn to look when he addressed him, shrugging his shoulders and feigning ignorance. “Coulda fooled me, Morty.”

                “I mean you’re the scientist Rick, you’re meant to know…meant to know that I don’t get periods, right-“

                “Jesus Christ Morty, it was a _joke_.”

                “You don’t even care what’s wrong, d-do you Rick, huh?”

                “Noooope.” He sang back.

                “Y-You know Rick, after all I-I do for you, you could at least pretend to be interested, you know?”

                Rick let out a deep sigh, making a show of turning around on his chair, slowly moving to look at his grandson. He leant his elbows on his legs, leaning forward in the chair, pretending to look interested. “Well gee Morty, what’s wrong kiddo?”

                The boy shot his smirking face a glare, refusing to answer to the condescending tone in his grandfather’s voice.

                Rick seemed to grow agitated with that, it was easy enough to set him off, so he leant back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. There was a large gap between them but he still managed to feel bigger than Morty due to his posture. “Yeah alright, you came down here to start a fight with me because you’re upset. Real fuckin’ mature.”

                “I’m not upset, Rick I’m-“

                “On your period, whatever. So you take it out on me. Riiiiight.”

                “I’m not – “ Morty shook his head, dropping that argument and biting back with something else instead. “You know you’re a real – r-real piece of shit sometimes, Rick!”

                “I’m a piece of shit huh Morty?”

                “Yeah!”

                “Well at least I don’t interrupt my grandpa’s work to come cry!” Rick shouted back, feeling his anger flare up unusually strongly. Rick was always crass and rude, but he hardly ever felt like his anger might be out of his control. He was above that, he was intelligent, he was –

                “You pull me out of school all the time! I’m failing my classes because of you, Rick! All bec-because of your stupid adventures, where _I_ always get hurt while _you_ laugh!”

                “If you hate it so much get the fuck out you little turd!” He stood up and got closer to Morty, who had been inching forward for a while now. He stood over him and punctuated his words by pressing his finger into Morty’s shoulder. “You can’t though, can you Morty? Can’t walk away from ol’ grandpa, right?”

                “That’s not true, I’m not – “

                “You _always_ come back to me because you’re _weak_ Morty. You’re the weakest, dumbest person in your family apart from your father. I can’t work out how someone with my genes gave birth to _you_. If you wanna go back to school, drop out before college, get a job in some shitty gas station, or waste your life like _Jerry_ , then go right ahead!”

                Morty growled, shouting like an animal as he stepped forward to close the gap between Rick and himself. In the same movement he swung his fist, skin colliding with skin with a crack, punching his grandfather squarely in the face. Rick stumbled back from the blow, hands coming up to cover his face. Morty could feel the blood rushing around his body, head thumping, fists clenched and buzzing, he looked up to see Rick uncover his face for a moment to look in the reflection of a monitor on his desk.

                He’d just missed the center of his face, but Rick’s nose was spewing blood. It dripped down his face and chin, and the man messily wiped it away with the back of his hand. His right eye looked swollen and red, and Morty guessed a bruise was soon to form.

                Rick turned back to Morty, deadly silence between them. Morty got ready to be struck, hit, or best case scenario, screamed at. But nothing happened. He allowed himself to relax until he looked into Rick’s eyes. They looked tired. Not regular, not slept-for-days tired, but tired of everything. The look Max Minter from the emo kids group at school would give him.

                Morty didn’t think Rick was going to fight back, but that scared him even more.

                “out.”

                The teen took a few steps back, hands reaching out to the door behind him. “H-Hey, Rick, a-are you okay-“

                “Get out, Morty.” Rick insisted, his voice firm but quiet. Morty turned around, swinging open the door and running back into the house. Rick stayed in the garage until the morning.

-

                The next day Morty was at the breakfast table, next to Summer, opposite Beth, and near Jerry. The breakfast table was about as silent as usual since Summer was texting people, Jerry was playing games on his phone, and Beth had stopped trying. Morty heard shuffling from the kitchen and turned just in time to see Rick by the trashcan. “Hey, Rick are you hun-“ he cut himself off when he saw Rick turn around, the dark bruise underneath his eye and a few remaining specks of blood under his nose.

                Rick was silent for a few moments, taking a long, hard look at his grandson. Then he cracked a smirk and almost laughed. “You think I want to waste time having breakfast when I have shit to do? No thanks. I’ll be in the garage.”

                Morty wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw Rick hesitate for just a second before he left the room.

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaaaaaa i havent written for rick and morty before so this was exciting!!   
> A couple of things to note...I personally dont see rick and morty's relationship as family as very healthy, and I know if someone I knew was in a situation like Morty I wouldn't be very pleased about it. However it is therapeutic to write about something dysfunctional for me, so that's why I like to write angst sometimes. 
> 
> If you liked this piece I write for some other fandoms, and may write some more rick and morty in the future!! thank you for reading!


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